


Powdered Kisses (FrAus Fic)

by wimptoad



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 08:06:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2644379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wimptoad/pseuds/wimptoad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Francis has always found Rodrich outrageously pretty. Rodrich has always found Francis strangely attractive. When they both enter a cooking competition, will the pressure of competition (and a visit from an unwelcome guest) cause emotions to bubble to the top?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Powdered Kisses (FrAus Fic)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So this fic was written for the 2013 secret santa rare pair, I personally do not ship this but when I finished it i thought it came out pretty okay! Because I dont ship it however, please give me suggestions on how ot improve it, if i mischaracterized the relationship! Feedback is always welcome!

Francis paused, looking down at the bowl of frosting he was stirring, just enough time to sneak a glance at Rodrich who was at the table next to them. The large cooking contest which they had both entere had taken up most of Francis’ attention for the past week, in between planning and making sure he had all this reservation correct he hadn’t had much time to think about the other competitors. However, now that he knew Rodrich was competing against him…

“Bonnefoy, Francis?” They had been cooking for over an hour now, having to make 5 of their best dishes with a time restraint of three hours. They had already done the check ins, to make sure everyone was here, but being as a few people had already dropped out they must have been rechecking again.

“Eh?” Francis’ attention was pulled from the man standing next to him to the judges sitting calmly at the table in the front. One man with a large bushy brown mustache and a frown which seemed to match his cheery personality was doing roll again. He looked up at the country with a bit of disdain before saying again, “Bonnefoy, Francis?”

“Present.” Francis snapped, the judges tone bothering him a bit. It was rude, Francis thought, for someone to just blurt out things like that especially when others are trying to focus. Focus, yes, that’s right. He let his eyes peer back down at the bowl of icing he was whipping.

“Edelstein, Rodrich?” 

“Present.” He heard Rodrich muse, as he turned for only a moment to look at the judges before putting his second dish into the heat lamp to keep warm. Francis found his eyes wandering yet again from his work and back to the man at the table next to him.

“What is it?” 

Francis jumped a bit, as he realized Rodrich was directing his words to him, in fact, he was staring right at him with a rather annoyed gaze. He soon got over his shock, and let a small smile crawl across his face. 

“Oh, nothing much,” He mused, not breaking the eye contact with the man. There was a long pause, before Francis smirked, and looked back at his bowl of frosting. He was trying his best to hold back the blush which was gently spreading over his face. Gaddmit, Rodrich was so pretty. Not handsome, persay, but he was most certainly pretty. From the tip of his pointed nose, to his hair which somehow made its way to curve perfectly at the ends, everything about him made Francis feel that tingling inside which he knew he couldn’t deny.

“Well it seems to be something. Enough to distract you from you’re cooking,” Rodrich faltered this time, then looked back at his table and picked up an apple he had started cutting trying to distract himself. “Whatever,” He muttered. He was getting rather tired of that man staring at him as they cooked. If he had known Francis would have been here, he… well no. No he would have come anyway, he knew that. To be quite honest, Rodrich hated how much he enjoyed the attention Francis gave him, even if at times he claims its to much. 

The way Francis looks at him made Rodrich feel burningly warm inside. He had told himself for many years it was anger at how pushy Francis would be with him, but now he was having to start to rethink that. Wait, what was he doing? He broke his train of thought, his mind finally coming back to the table he was staring at. 

“5 minutes before the second brake.” The announcer said, his voice echoing among the large cafeteria like room. The walls of the room were lined with pots and and pans, and in the front sat the judges table. The man making the announcement sat back down at his judges seat. Five minutes? Rodrich felt himself panic. He only had two of his five meals finished and, wait, how many did Francis have? He turned and looked at the frenchmen, who was nwo diligently working, putting the last touches on his second meal. Francis paused form decorating his meal and looked up, noticing Rodrich and smiling, giving him a wink.  
Rodrich panicked, turning and looking straight down at his cutting board. Was he, was he blushing?! What the hell was he doing? He didn’t need to be looking at him, he was, he was moronic. Moronic and perverted and smelled like roses and cream and nice bath soaps that make the back of his nose tingle and wait, wait wait he was does it again. He felt his cheeks burn more as he reached forward and grabbed the kitchen knife, taking the nearest carrot and cutting into with enough force that it made Francis jump at the table next to him. Francis looked up at Rodrich intense carrot cutting and let out a chuckle just loud enough to tease Rodrich’s ears.

“Something got to you, eh?” He asked, raising an eyebrow his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“No!” Rodich snapped, slamming his knife into the cutting board and turning to stare at Francis, his cheeks bursting with a bright red. 

 

After the judges had let the competitors out for a small break, Rodrich found the nearest water fountain and got himself a long drink, then found a bench to sit down and try to calm himself. What the hell had gotten into him? He had felt his cheeks turning redder as he cut and then that comment Francis dropped, why that, that prick did he really find that completely necessary? 

“Goddamn I can’t stand him,” Rodrich muttered, leaning over and resting his head in his hands. 

“Can’t stand who?” Came a very familiar voice from next to him. Rodrich looked up, only to find another unpleasant sight. 

“Oh, Gilbert. What the hell are you doing here?” He said, his normal sharp tone dulled, still coming down from his blushing fit.

“Well, actually I’m gonna meet Alfred and Denny at a bar, and I heard that you were here so I figured I might as well show up and see if you’re winning or not.” He laughed, leaning forwards and putting his pale hands in his jean pockets. “And from that look on your face I’d say you’re not doing that awesome, am I right?” He smiled at the other country.

“Oh shut up I’m doing just fine.” He snapped, sitting back so to get the man out of his face. “My cooking is fine.”

“I heard Francis is in this competition too, huh?” Gilbert asked, leaning back now too and raising an eyebrow as Rodrich’s cheeks turned a sharp red at the mention of his name. “Wait,” he leaned in closer to him. “Wait are you feeling all funny over Francis?” Rodrich looked away, averting his eyes to the empty patch of bench. “Oh god thats really it? Oh god you like Francis?!” 

“Shhh!” He snapped turning around and grabbing Prussia’s arm tight enough to make the guy flinch.

“Oh god oh god you do!” He smiled at his friend, then tugged his arm from his grip. “Oh, oh! Hey,” He smiled at him and his eyes seemed to shine with a joking light. “How about about I get you and Francis to,” He picked up his hands and smashed them together, then chuckled, wiggling his eyebrows together. “Yeah? Yeah?” He nodded encouragingly. 

“Are you kidding me?” Rodrich snapped, pulling Gilbert's hands apart. “No. No no no no no,” He paused, his cheeks red again as the thought crossed his mind, no. No we aren’t playing that game today, today is about cooking not about anything that foul and dirty and-

“Gilbert, mon ami! Where have you come from why are you here?”

Rodrich snapped his head up to see Francis smiling brightly at his friend. Godammit.

“Ayee! Francis! We were just talking about you,” He smiled, giving Rodrich a fox like grin before standing up and giving his friend a big hug.  
“I haven’t seen you since the last meeting! How have you been??” 

“Great, just great!” Gilbert beamed, pulling away from his friend. “Actually,” He glanced back at Rodrich who was radiating ‘please don’t do it’ vibe. “Actually I have something I think you’re going to want to hear.” 

“Eh?” Francis turned back and looked at Rodrich smiling. “What is it, mon ami?” He asked his Gilbert, playfully.

“Well,” Gilbert turned around, breaking his friend embrace so Francis and he were now only connect by holding each others waists. “I think someone here has a little crush on someone else here.”

“Oh really~?” Francis smiled at Rodrich, trying his best to keep a cool exterior though inside his could feel his chest filling with sweet sugar injected air. He felt like running forward and hugging Rodrich and touching his thin soft hair, and kissing his face which was so amazing put together like a porcelain doll. “Is that so?” Francis let slip out of his lips, now barely being able to hold back the smile on his face.

“Oh, look at that time!” Prussia said, checking his wrist which had no watch. “It seems I have to go or I’ll be late!” He smiled and pulled away from the both of them. “I'll see you guys in, uh,” He paused, reaching down and picking up the bag he had set down on the ground. “time.” He said. He smirked at Francis who looked a bit distraught at him leaving, the butterflies in his chest seemed to be bubbling to the top, Rodrich’s cheeks a burning bright red. Francis turned to Rodrich, letting out a shy smile. Rodrich faltered, the expression taking him by surprise. Was that a, shy smile? Like a kitten with his ears pushed back he sat down next to Rodrich. They sat in silence for a moment, the dorky smile still sprinkled over Francis’s face. 

“You know,” Francis mused turning to looked at Rodrich for a moment, his cheeks a light pink. “If you are lying,”

“I,” Rodrich panicked, staring at Francis’ light blue eyes. “No, no I’m not kidding or, he wasn’t.” His eyebrows scrunched together in a mix of anger and relief. “I, oh stop looking at me like that!” He snapped at him.

“Huh?” Francis asked, blinking. “Like what?”

“Like, like that!” Rodrich said, angrily, waving his hand at him. “You’re eyes are just they’re auggggGH.” His spare hand, sitting and waiting at his knee starting tapping the notes to some angry piano piece he had known for as long as he could remember. His eyes squinted angrily at him. Francis smiled at him, his eyes relaxing as he reached out and touched the hand, calming it. Rodrich felt his chest tighten, then relax, flooding with that fuzzy feeling. “I,” He didn’t fight Francis hand, resting softly on his own. “I, Francis, I,”

Francis smiled at him, and gently leaned in.


End file.
